


One of Those Days

by crane_wings



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Functionist Universe Rung, Megatron just wants a little R&R, too bad he ends up accidentally dimension hopping instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3765604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crane_wings/pseuds/crane_wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if the whole time travel debacle wasn't bad enough, Megatron ends up in an alternate universe and looking up at a very familiar face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of Those Days

Nebulos.

The premiere vacation resort for any self-respecting Cybertronian. The beaches were beautiful, the service excellent, the energon rumored to be “as smooth as a protoform’s bottom,” and it was worthy of Ultra Magnus’ firm disapproval of everything “fun.”

The perfect choice to get the more boisterous crewmembers off the ship.

Rodimus was, as expected, all for stopping by for a day, or a week, or however long it would take the drunken crew to get kicked out of all the Cybertronian-friendly bars. Megatron made a mental note to see Jackpot about getting in on the betting pool. Considering this crew, there’d probably be an intergalactic incident amidst the barhopping that would necessitate a hurried takeoff. Might as well get a few shanix out of the inevitable chaos while he could.

Unfortunately, upon hearing Rodimus’ enthusiastic vacation plans, Ultra Magnus became even more adamant about choosing a different _galaxy_ to refuel the Lost Light.

“The crew needs some time off the ship to let loose,” Megatron insisted. _And_ I _need a little peace and quiet to relax_ , he thought to himself. Captaining the Lost Light proved, at times, more stressful than leading an entire fragging army. Back during his Decepticon warlord days, there had been a wonderful thing called delegation. Now, everything he delegated went to Rodimus, who sent it to Ultra Magnus, who was far too busy to complete additional work, which meant the untouched paperwork ended up back on his desk within a few hours. He stifled an annoyed grumble and tried not to miss Soundwave’s efficiency. “Whirl’s been instigating brawls in Swerve’s bar.”

“That’s normal behavior for Whirl,” Ultra Magnus pointed out. “And you want to dock in a place where he can consume even more intoxicants?”

“Alright,” Best to concede on _that_ topic. The Whirl problem had been a long shot anyway. “Rewind has been filming the walls.”

“What?”

“Absolutely nothing interesting has happened since the time travelling incident, so Rewind is bored enough that he’s resorted to literally watching paint dry with his conjunx endura.”

“Oh, yeah,” Rodimus butted in. “They’ve been camped out in Hallway 221-B for _days_ now. Chromedome was bored to _tears_ , so I spray painted graffiti on the wall so he’d have something new to look at.”

“…As I was _saying_ before the interruption, I’m getting various complaints about Rewind’s ‘creepy, vacant stare’ and occasional ‘zombie-like shuffling.’ Skids is upset that there’s now _traffic_ in the vents as others are now using them in an attempt to avoid the hallways Rewind tends to frequent.” Megatron glared at his Co-captain when Rodimus made to open his mouth again. “ _And_ , Ratchet has threatened to…shove various objects into places where such objects should not be shoved if another idiot gets stuck in the vents and comms him for help. He adds that it is _not_ his duty to get ‘idiots unstuck from their own stupidity.’”

Seeing that Ultra Magnus was still unconvinced and starting to twitch with the need to go see what damage Rodimus had done to Hallway 221-B, Megatron threw out his last resort. “Perceptor believes Brainstorm is devising a method for interdimensional travel!”

 

 -x-x-

 

The plan was simple.

The Lost Light would dock at Nebulos, where Rodimus would drag Brainstorm and a good chunk of the crew off to the closest bar while he, Ultra Magnus and Perceptor investigated Brainstorm’s newest projects. If Perceptor found anything that could act as an interdimensional portal or gateway, then Ultra Magnus would confiscate it and Megaton would ban all further research into that area.

Chasing the weapons engineer through time had been a headache and a half. No one wanted to contemplate the possibility of having to chase Brainstorm through _alternate universes_.

 

-x-x-

 

Unsurprisingly, things did not go to plan. Megatron had expected it, really, yet he had still foolishly held on to a fragment of hope that it was just his paranoia and cynicism talking.

As it turned out, Brainstorm _had_ been working on a method of interdimensional travel, and it was a _ridiculously_ _sensitive_ device as they discovered when Ultra Magnus lightly _coughed_ on it.

Apparently, even the simplest of plans were doomed to failure whenever _any_ member of the Lost Light crew was involved. Something had to go wrong, even as everything went right.

The thought didn’t make a lick of sense, but it described the Lost Light’s adventures precisely so far. It had been a long six months for him, and Megatron was still only _beginning_ to accept how dysfunctional and nonsensical this crew was.

But, acceptance didn’t make him any happier to be in this particular situation.

Namely, sprawled on top of some gaudily caped mech he happened to land on after his impromptu fall through a sudden rip in the multiverse and staring up with wide optics at an imprisoned Rung; a badly damaged version of Rung who stared back with equal surprise.

To Megatron’s trained optics, the injuries and old scars were too uniform to be anything other than the results of torture over a very long period of time. The degree of the damage was nothing compared to what Styx’s torture chambers had once dished out before the K-Class mechs were commissioned, but seeing it on Rung was…disturbing. Wrong.

Logically, Megatron knew _this_ Rung wasn’t the Rung he was familiar with, but the resemblance still made his spark twist uncomfortably in its chamber.

Just…it was _Rung_. One of the few Lost Light mechs he didn’t mind spending time around. The kind psychiatrist who was always happy to lend an open audial to anyone who needed it and built miniature spaceship models in his spare time. The scrawny, little mech who was absurdly easy to overlook, and yet had a spinal strut made of ununtrium whenever a situation called for it.

“Who…are you?” Eyebrows scrunched together, the bound mech peered warily at him through cracked lenses.

The facial expressions were familiar, but the tense, guarded tone of voice was not, and Megatron knew right then and there that he couldn’t not get involved in whatever this mess was.

Mentally cursing Brainstorm and Ultra Magnus and his current life in general, he climbed to his feet, uncaring of the unconscious mech underneath him. Anyone wearing a cape _that_ gaudy deserved to be stepped on.

Introductions first, then he needed to figure out how to free this Rung from the restraints.

So much for rest and relaxation.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this about a week after MTMTE 38 came out, and it's been collecting dust since. It's not really complete, but I've got nothing planned for this fic so I'll just label it a oneshot. Maybe someday, I'll pick it back up.


End file.
